Make Your Mark
by St. Minority
Summary: What was the mark Jack left on Beckett? Something rather creative and unforgettable. crack!fic Mentions of slash


**Title:** Make Your Mark  
**Prompt:** History  
**Characters/Pairings:** Jack/Beckett, brief mention of Jack/OC  
**Warnings:** mentions of m/m  
_A/N: My first try at Jack and Beckett together. This seems kind of serious at the beginning, but it really is supposed to be humorous. And sheer crack at the end thanks to my sister's boyfriend because of his remarks at Beckett holding up the brand in DMC. ;D _Date posted elsewhere: 1/28/07

* * *

The searing pain lingered heavily as if it had just been forced onto him. The surface throbbed to remind him of the agony of heat. He could still envision the mockery and contented expression on the man's face who had ordered the degrading act.

But now the fire burned in his eyes instead of within the hearth that had provided life to the scalding piece of metal.

In the blackness of night, he had liberated himself from the confinement he had been placed in and made his way to the quarters of the high-class man he now wished to return such a disgraceful mark to. Of course, he would add a bit of himself to the product to ensure that he would never be forgotten.

Once he had the unprepared male seated in a chair – his hands shackled behind the back of it and his shirt off – the uninvited visitor dragged another over beside him and began to ready his instruments.

Jack Sparrow could not discern the uneasiness in his prey's eyes, but he knew it was there. It caused a thrilled grin to play across his lips, while Cutler Beckett merely waited for the unknown.

"What are you planning?" Beckett questioned sternly. It was remarkable how calm he was, in Jack's mind, considering the circumstances.

"Nothing short of what you gave to me."

"Then shouldn't you be fetching it from the flame?"

"I didn't say it was goin' to be _exactly_ the same as what you gave me, did I? Now, if you please, just look straight ahead."

Beckett tensed and let out a startled yelp when he felt the sharp, heated point pierce his upper arm. The hurtful sensation did not cease to stop, and Jack commenced humming a cheery tune as he proceeded. The bound victim attempted to shift away from the incessant stabbing, but Jack held his elbow securely and continued on.

"What are you doing?!" Beckett shouted angrily, though it quivered in pain. His head turned to catch a view of what was being inserted into his skin; however, Jack's powerful hand gripped the top of his cranium and forced him to face ahead once again.

"I told ya not to look," Jack stated plainly.

Beckett huffed disgustedly and asked bitterly, "How did you escape from your well-earned prison cell?"

"Well, how did I _ever_ get anything from you, ay? The soldier got a _very_ pleasurable release within _me,_ and I got to _be_ released by _him."_

"You truly are a whore then."

"You never seemed to think that before, seeing as I never got any payments from ya. What I can't believe is how quickly you betrayed me. You'll wish you hadn't."

"I doubt it. How was I supposed to achieve a higher status while sheltering a wanted criminal?"

"Not to mention _bedding_ said criminal."

"_That_ aside, you should know better than I; piracy will be wiped completely out sooner than you can imagine."

"You've tasted a little taste of power and now suddenly you've sided with _them?"_

"Did you ever think I was on yours?"

Jack bit his lip and pretended to become entirely immersed with his procedure. A tired, bored sigh came from Beckett as the weighty silence draped between them.

No words were exchanged for the next hour.

The feeling of the pointy object penetrating Beckett's flesh had gradually become more annoying than anything as the time passed. At last he spoke in an irritated tone, "What do you hope to achieve with whatever you're doing?"

Jack was quiet for a brief moment before answering, "You gave me somethin' to remember you by; I'm simply returnin' the favor. 'Course, the one you gave me is a lot worse considering the torture it was to get it and because it can get me killed, but I'm sure you won't feel that way once you see the one I'm givin' you," he ended with a chuckle.

After what seemed like an incredibly lengthy amount of time, Jack's ministrations stopped and he straightened his posture as he surveyed the result of his labor. A broad, sinful smile crept across his face and he announced smugly, "All done."

He stood and started to pack away his tools. Beckett winced and exhaled a slightly trembling breath as the spot where Jack had marked him felt like it was abruptly on fire. He glanced to his bicep, but was unable to see what had been done.

"Where are you going?" he inquired frantically when Jack crossed to the door.

"I'm leavin'."

"You can't just _leave_ me tied up like this."

"Why not? You left _me_ to rot away in a cell until the moment would arrive to face the noose."

They stared coldly at each other for several minutes until Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. He moved to Beckett and freed him from his bonds. Beckett immediately raced to the mirror, not noticing Jack slipping out the entrance with an arrogant expression covering his visage.

The instant he discovered what was left on his arm, Beckett's eyes widened in disbelief before a roaring angry erupted within him.

"Damn you, Jack!" he yelled wildly. "You'll regret this!"

On the swelling, reddened area of skin, a decent-sized outline of a heart was tattooed on him, along with the words: "SPARROW + BECKETT 4EVR" encompassed by it.


End file.
